by Meghan Quinn
She cups my cheek and slowly brings my mouth to hers. She presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over you.”
“Same.” I swallow hard. “Same, Kate.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
KATE
Tears well in my eyes as Walker lowers his head back down to my neck and casually kisses my skin, reminding me how much of a softy this man with a hard exterior really is. He isn’t the man he portrays himself to be. He isn’t the man everyone dislikes, nor should he be labeled the least-liked player in baseball. Because if people took the time to see beneath the surface—if he allowed that—they’d actually meet a very different man. He’s not egotistical and aloof. I suspect now that he’s guarded and tortured. “I’ve never forgiven myself for letting Penn take care of her, and I’ve never forgiven him for sending her off that night.”
But he’s such a good, good man. If people got to know him, if they saw what I see, they very well might have tears in their eyes, as well.
I thought I was struggling to let him go because I was crushing on him. Because he was forthright with me—he wanted me fiercely but was also trying to protect me. I haven’t been crushing. I’ve been falling for him, and falling for him hard. No one has ever shown such determination to care for me. Has made me feel so beautiful. Treasured.
Still inside of me, he lies on top of me, his weight propped up by one of his arms so he doesn’t crush me. As he continues to kiss me softly and stroke his fingers over my arm, I run through the moments leading up to what we just did.
The vulnerability in his eyes.
His confession.
The way he commanded my body.
The way he worshipped it.
His love for my curves.
The way he brought me to orgasm with his tongue.
The way he felt in my mouth.
The demanding way he took us both to the edge and then catapulted us over.
It was raw, visceral, and taxing. So many emotions flowed through me—from truly elated, to utter lust, to now . . . worried.
Because what happens now? Now that I’ve had a piece of him, what happens?
Would he even want anything after this? Is this it for him?
It should be the end for both of us, but for the life of me, I don’t want to let go.
More tears sting my eyes and I try to hold them back, but it’s no use. I sniffle, revealing myself, and Walker quickly lifts up and catches sight of the first wave of tears as they cascade down the side of my face.
He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t have to—he knows what these tears are for. Instead, he reaches up and he wipes them away with his thumbs. Then, he slowly pulls out. He scoops me up in his arms and takes me to the bathroom, where he sets me on the counter. He turns on his shower—a dream wrapped in marble with multiple showerheads and an automatic temperature gauge. After a few seconds, he opens the shower door and carries me in with him. The water is already hot. Looking down at me, he wipes at my eyes again and then guides me into the water.
Quietly, he washes me from head to toe with his soap, gently working up a lather and then rinsing it away. “So beautiful, Kate. So, so sweet,” he whispers. But I’m still too emotional to talk, so I lean in and kiss his chest, holding there for a moment so he knows where I’m at. He’s quick with washing his body, and when we’re done, he turns the shower off and wraps us up in fluffy towels. I allow him to take care of me, to dry me off and slip me into one of his shirts. After he puts on another pair of sweatpants, he leads me to his bed. He leans against the headboard and moves me to his lap.
He lifts up his phone and kisses my shoulder as he types out a text. I don’t read it, but I do catch a few words like delivery and pancakes. All the while, he’s smoothing his hand over my back, kissing me every chance he gets, and telling me how beautiful I am.
It does nothing to staunch my tears. When he sets his phone down, he wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, the warmth of his embrace making me even more emotional, because I want this. I want him.
I want this moment, me in his arms, wearing his shirt, but with nothing to worry about . . . like work.
Crap.
I sit up and wipe at my face. “I—I have to get to work.”
“Spend the day with me,” Walker says, his determined eyes meeting mine.
“Walker, you know I can’t.”
“You can. Tell them you’re helping me with some outreach program.”
“Walker—”
“Please?” he asks, his voice cracking as his fingers glide over my cheek. “Please, Kate. I need just one day with you as mine.”
“The ball . . . they might need help with that.”
“Ask Vivian.” He cups my face. “I don’t ask for anything . . . ever, but I’m asking for this. Please spend this day with me. Give me one day and then I’ll let go of you. Please.”
The pleading in his eyes and the soft touch of his calloused fingers drive me to climb off his lap and head into the living room in search of my phone. Our scattered clothes are draped all over the kitchen and my purse is on the floor by the door. I retrieve my bag and sift through it for my phone.
I know there isn’t much left to do for the ball, because we’ve been working hard on it the past two weeks, and Audrey is the type of boss who likes every event completed early so we aren’t scrounging around to get things done at the last minute. My day was going to be slow anyway, and it’s why I was heading into work late.
I don’t see an issue with taking the day off, besides the fact that I’ll be spending it with Walker and falling for this man more and more.
I dial Vivian and head out onto his balcony for some privacy.
“Hey, girl, what’s going on?” Vivian asks. “Are you stuck in traffic too? I called Audrey, and she said to take my time, as not much is happening in the office.”
“Um, I was wondering if you thought I could ask Audrey for the day off.”
“Are you okay?” Vivian asks. “Your voice is all shaky.”
Tears spill over my eyelashes and I take a deep breath before speaking. “Yeah, just not feeling super great,” I lie, because even though Vivian knows, I don’t want to tell her the truth.
“Are you hungover?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“I mean, if you’re not feeling well, you know Audrey will give you the day off, especially with how hard you’ve been working lately and all the extra hours you’ve been putting in. Shoot her a text, that’s what I do and she’s always understanding.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Are you sure everything is okay?”
No.
It’s not okay.
I press my lips together and look up at the sky, wishing I could change all the circumstances.
“Yeah, just need a day.”
“Understandable. Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We hang up and I quickly text Audrey. As I wait for her response, I listen to the sounds of the city moving at a fast pace below. The El train squeaking by, the horns of cars trying to make their way through the streets, the occasional person yelling—it’s nothing like New York City, but has the same vibe. My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down at Audrey’s message.
Audrey: Take the day, you deserve it. We got everything covered.
Once again, tears stream down my cheeks as I let out a heavy breath. Maybe she’s right—I do deserve this day off, and not just to enjoy time off, but because I deserve a moment with this man. I deserve a day where I can simply soak him in, pretend he’s mine. Because even if I left, I would be feeling the same way, at a loss. At least if I spend the day with him, I can soak up as much as I can before experiencing the devastating feeling of leaving him once more.
I type back a quick thank you and then prepare myself to walk back into his apartment. You’re giving yourself a day with him and then that’s it. Soak it in, stop being an emotional mess, and live in the moment.
I walk
back into the apartment and come to a stop when I see him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, making his built chest pop even more. Slowly he raises his head, his expression making it clear he’s prepared for bad news.
Setting my phone down on the dining room table, I walk toward him and smooth my hands up his chest. His arms wrap around me, his hands finding their way under my shirt to grip my bare ass.
“I’m yours for the day.”
His eyes turn darker as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Mine?” he asks, his voice full of awe.
I nod. “Yours.”
His hands drag my shirt up and over my head and he tosses it to the ground. “Then you don’t need this.”
He lifts me up and takes me back to his bedroom again, where he lays me across his dreamlike sheets. He removes his sweatpants, already showing off how hard he is, and he stretches his body next to mine. His hand falls to my breast. With his finger, he draws a figure eight pattern slowly around them, causing my nipples to pucker and my legs to fall open immediately.
Quietly, he says, “Thank you,” just before placing a kiss on my cheek and then moving to my ear. “I needed this, Kate. This time with you. Thank you.”
I cup his cheek and force him to look at me. “Just today.”
“Just today,” he repeats. “But you have to give me all of you. No holding back.”
“Walker . . . I’ve given you all of me from the very beginning. It’s why I can’t stop coming back.”
“Which is why I probably can’t seem to let go.” He glides his hand down my stomach to between my legs, and I let them fall open even wider. I’m already wet, just from being near him. Seeing him naked and wanting me, it spurs me on, so when his fingers glide over my slit, his fingers slide with ease.
“Babe,” he breathes heavily. “You want me.”
“More than I think you know.”
“Then have me.” He rolls to his back and pulls me on top of him. “Have me any goddamn way you want.” He places his hands behind his head and stares up at me, waiting. It puts a smile on my face as I lift up and adjust his cock so it’s at my entrance, and then I sink down on him.
The corners of his lips lift as he lets out a long breath.
“Fucking perfection,” he mumbles, allowing me to take charge.
Living in the moment, I ask, “Is that a smile I see?”
His arms unfold from behind his head and he presses his hands into my thighs. “Yeah, because I’m happy. You make me happy, Kate.”
I swallow back the emotion that bubbles up inside me from his confession and rock my hips as I say, “You make me happy too, Walker.”
Really happy.
Chapter Fifty-Three
WALKER
“From the twelve-pack of your abs, I didn’t think you ate things like this,” Kate says while taking a large bite of her pancakes. “But my thighs definitely show that I do.”
She’s sitting on my lap, feeding the both of us because if she’s mine for the day, I’m not going to waste one second of it with her not being within touching distance.
“First of all, I don’t have a twelve-pack.”
She chuckles.
“And second of all, your thighs are fucking killer, babe. I love them.”
“You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” She stabs some pancakes on our shared fork and brings them to my mouth. “You make me feel sexy, Walker.”
I chew, swallow, and then say, “It’s because you are sexy, Kate. I think at this point, you know I don’t say things just to say them. I mean everything that comes out of my mouth.”
“I’m aware.” She leans over and places a syrupy kiss on my lips.
After she rode me and we both came at the same time, I felt a crack in my chest, like she broke through another wall, a wall I wasn’t expecting to ever be broken through. I’m falling for her—I can feel it in my bones. I’m not only addicted, but I’m becoming totally and utterly useless where she’s concerned.
She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. She’s shameless—takes what she wants and does it with a smile. But also, her soul is warm, she’s understanding, she listens, and she feels what you feel. She’s captured me, and when I felt her crying earlier, I knew exactly why—she’s feeling the same way I am. We don’t want to let go, but we don’t know how to keep holding on either.
“I love when you kiss me like that.”
“Like what?” she asks, picking up some coffee and taking a sip.
“Like I belong to you. Like you can kiss me whenever you feel like. You don’t have to hide it. You don’t have to pretend.”
“I like it too.” She smiles a sweet smile, then picks up a piece of bacon and brings it to my mouth. “You need some protein, because if I get to have my wicked way with you today, you need to keep up on your nutrition.”
I chuckle. I know the sound makes her happy, not just from her mentioning it, but from the look of joy on her face. “You’re going to have your wicked way with me?”
She nods. “Oh yeah. I have plans for your penis.”
That makes me laugh even more. “Care to share what these plans are?”
“Not particularly. I prefer spur-of-the-moment sexual encounters, but I will say this—if I wasn’t worried about getting caught, I would one hundred percent ask you to fuck me on your balcony.”
My eyebrow raises. “Are you a dirty girl, Kate?”
“Not really.” She pinches my chin and brings my lips to hers. “But it seems as if you bring it out of me. You’ve awakened a sexual beast within.”
I twist my lips to the side, considering what she’s saying. “That could be a good thing and a bad thing.”
“Why do you say that?” Her brow pinches together.
“Because—it could be good for me, right here, right now, but what happens after today?”
“Oh, trust me, this sexual beast is only activated by you.”
“Yeah?” I smooth my hand over her thigh. “Tell me more about that.”
“It’s never been like this with anyone else, Walker,” she says, her tone more serious. “And I know after today, it won’t be like this with anyone else. You’re different. You’re special. You make me feel beautiful.”
“Because you are.”
She sets our fork down and rests her head on my chest, cuddling in close. I hold her tight and kiss the top of her head.
“Do you ever think about where we came from?”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “Like . . . our childhood?”
She shakes her head against my chest, her hair tickling under my chin. “No. I mean, our friendship, relationship, where it’s come from. Honestly, if someone would’ve told me I’d be naked in Walker Rockwell’s apartment one day, I would’ve told them they were insane. Especially after our first meeting when you were such a grump. I don’t go for grumps. Ever. I go for the fun, outgoing guy.”
“Well, you’re all kinds of my type,” I say.
She groans. “And then you go and say something like that and make me look like an asshole.”
I laugh and stand from the dining room chair, leaving the dishes behind.
“Where do you think you’re taking me?”
“Where do you think?” I look her in the eyes.
“Are you going to fuck me again?”
“Yeah . . . because like I said, you’re all kinds of my type.”
I drag my fingers up and down Kate’s spine as she curls her warm, soft body into mine. “Can I ask you something personal?” she asks.
“Go for it.”
“I’ve been curious what your relationship is like with your parents. You mentioned it being strained, but you’re also honoring your dad at the Firefighters Ball.”
“Yeah.” I blow out a heavy breath. “We haven’t spoken in quite some time, and I’d like to say it’s just on my end, but it’s on theirs, too. Our relationship kind of fizzled out after Dawn passed away.”
“Wasn’t that a long t
ime ago?”
I nod. “Yeah, it was. We talk on occasion. On holidays and birthdays, but I can’t tell you the last time I saw them. I tried paying off their house, but they wouldn’t accept it. When I won the World Series for the first time, they called to congratulate me, but they weren’t there. I think when Dawn died, a little piece of them died as well.”
“That’s not fair to you, though; you’re still their son.”
“I know, but I don’t hold it against them.” I shrug. “There’s no fixing that area of my life. My parents have turned into hermits and that’s how they choose to live their life.”
“Do they blame you for what happened to Dawn?”
“No, they’ve told me to my face and during family counseling that they didn’t think it was my fault. But a piece of me thinks they blame me.”
“That’s awful.”
“I blame myself though, so I can’t be mad at them for putting some of the responsibility on me.”
“Yes, you can. It was no one’s fault. Not even Penn’s.”
“Are you defending him?” I ask, growing angry from the mention of his name.
“No.” She smooths her hand over my chest. “I’m just saying, if anyone is to blame, it’s the drunk driver. That’s it. And it makes me sad that you’ve lost so many relationships over this. Dawn, your parents . . . Penn.”
“Penn was a relationship that was already nearly lost, but that was the final straw.” I wrap a strand of her hair around my finger. “Plus, my parents were never the overtly loving type. I knew they loved me, but they were never the type of parents to sit down and talk about feelings.” I let out a dry laugh. “Guess that transferred to me.”
“Just a little.” She presses her palm over my heart. “But when you’re comfortable, you do open up and I appreciate that about you.”
“You’re the only one I open up to.”
“Which makes me special, right?” she teases, but I take her seriously.